The Smell of Thanksgiving
Tis the night before turkey day ,and all my little eaters and non eater are packed quietly away in their beds, dreaming of white turkey and pumpkin pie with mile high reddi whip on top. Some family members can't make it, others haven't made it in years, so the mix will be fun and refreshing. But here's the jib: whilst the folks frolic along the lines of food and drink, slump down in chairs to stare at a family member, or the boob tube--which ever is more attractive, i'll be counting oral intake calories for Rhyse. Dividing those calories by the time of day and the amounts he needs to sustain his energy, and subtracting the volume of vomit along the way. I'll be chasing him with his MOOG feeding pack, and inconveniencing him as he tries to wrestle around with his oh-so-awesome uncle Josh, whom he speaks of nearly every day of his life. And finally watching for signs of severe fatigue, and finding ways to allow him quiet time to recharge until it's time to go